


Compare And Contrast

by Maplefudge



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M, Romance, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maplefudge/pseuds/Maplefudge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gokudera compares the two versions of <i>his</i> Yamamoto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compare And Contrast

**Series:** Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
 **Characters:** TYL and Present!Yamamoto/Gokudera  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Words:** 1,479  
 **Notes:** Gokudera compares the two versions of _his_ Yamamoto.

  
**Compare and Contrast**

“Are you okay?”

Gokudera observed that Yamamoto’s voice was much more tired now, just like the expression on his face. He was seated on the edge of his bed, legs crossed and tie loosened. The lights to his room were switched off, and the Italian wondered if he was planning to go to sleep like that. Idiot.

“Sure. Whatever.” Gokudera replied impatiently as he stood by the door, a hand gripped tightly on the knob as he refused to shut it behind him.

Yamamoto gave a smile. Gokudera used to be so predictable and immature. The Gokudera he knew at the present was more patient now, and if he wanted to say something, he would just say it. It took a couple of years before he was actually comfortable enough around Yamamoto before he acted like this.

“Why aren’t you asleep? I heard Lal Mirch gave you and Tsuna one of the guest rooms. If you want, your old room is at the end of this hall. She would’ve probably given Tsuna his old room, but Hayato insisted on nailing it shut after Tsuna—“

“Hayato?” Gokudera spat. “ _Hayato?!_ ”

“Hm?”

“When the fuck did you start calling me that? Fucking old geezer…”

Yamamoto laughed. It sounded nothing like the one he used to give when he was much younger and he meant it.

“Fine, Gokudera.” He added as he shifted his position a bit and ran a hand through his hair. “What do you want?”

The young boy kept silent for a while with a scowl on his face. Yamamoto waited patiently, because he knew that the boy would say it, sooner or later.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Gokudera muttered. “Wandered around. Saw you enter this room. Got curious.”

Yamamoto smiled again. His explanation was vague but understandable.

“Hayato,” He said, resulting from a scowl from Gokudera. “…Sorry. Got used to it. Here, sit here.” He yawned.

“Why should I?”

Gokudera flinched when he heard the other man give a sigh that seemed exasperated. The Yamamoto he knew, _his_ Yamamoto never lost patience with him, no matter how stubborn he knew he was being. Because the Yamamoto in front of him said nothing to add to his request, Gokudera couldn’t find any other retorts. He muttered a ‘fine!’ as he shut the door behind him and stalked over to the taller man.

“You going to sleep in those clothes or something?” Gokudera asked as he scrunched his nose in digust. He plopped down on the bed with a loud thud, his side hitting Yamamoto’s knee. He didn’t mind.

The dark-haired boy blinked and stared down at his clothes. “Why not? It’s just the same.”

“Because it’s disgusting! You’ve been wearing those the whole day!”

“Bet you just want to see me naked, huh?” He laughed.

“Fucking pervert…”

Yamamoto did not miss the scarlet in his cheeks, right before Gokudera turned away and hugged the pillow that was there. It smelled like Yamamoto.

Gokudera muttered something incoherent, right into the pillow.

“What?”

“The Tenth.” Gokudera said, much more clearly. “He was crying.”

Yamamoto didn’t know what to answer, so it took him a while. His answer was pathetic. “Really?”

“Tsch!” The Italian replied impatiently. “It was damn uncomfortable, so I just got the hell out of there once he fell asleep…”

Turning around, Gokudera could see the curious expression on the dark-haired man’s face as he asked, “You think he was really asleep?”

Thinking about it for a while, Gokudera replied, “He might have been pretending.”

Yamamoto gave another laugh, and Gokudera winced when he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders and pulled up. The older, taller man enveloped him in a tight hug, inhaling sharply. “You are a damn idiot, Hayato.”

“The fuck?!” Gokudera replied, almost in a yell, as he tried to pull Yamamoto away. He was much stronger now. “Where did that come from?”

Yamamoto was talking against his skin. “You wouldn’t talk to me. Just kept to yourself. Tsuna’s death affected everyone, you know…?”

Silence. “You’re not talking to me.” Gokudera stated. “That wasn’t me.”

“It was you.”

The Italian could not find an answer for that.

“Let go of me.” He snarled. All his pushing was still in vain. “I’m going back! The Tenth might look for me, damn it!”

“I don’t care.”

And, for the first time, Gokudera heard Yamamoto speak to him in a tone that actually seemed angry. His eyes looked furious, and his hand snaked up to grasp the Italian’s wrist in a tight grip, immobilizing him. His other hand held his head in place.

“It hurts, Yamamoto.” Gokudera stated, anger also evident in his voice.

Yamamoto let go. “Sorry.” He said simply as he sighed, and he inched further and lay down on the other side of the bed with a tired and worried expression. “Sorry. You can go back if you want.”

Gokudera sat there in silence, staring at the dark-haired man. Exasperation and anger, two feelings that Yamamoto had never showed him before when it was _him_ he was dealing with. Yamamoto had been cheerful, always laughing, and Gokudera would observe that he would bite back his lip when the Italian went too far. Gokudera always felt guilty about it afterwards, because he knew he pushed it.

He never apologized.

Ten years after, this Yamamoto didn’t seem to mask his feelings anymore. And Gokudera wondered why his future self, as Yamamoto said, distanced himself from a man who tolerated him for all those years.

Yamamoto blinked when he felt something move at his side. Gokudera reached out and grabbed his arm roughly and muttered Italian curses, curses which Yamamoto understood by now. The young boy curled himself up the side of the other man.

“I’m staying here. Deal with it.”

“…O-okay.” Yamamoto seemed surprised.

“If you try anything funny, you damn pedophile, I’m going to send you to hell.”

The dark-haired boy smiled and kissed him lightly on the forehead. Gokudera did not complain.

When this Yamamoto was switched to the one Gokudera knew, Gokudera was surprised, because it was such an inconvience. The younger Yamamoto was so clueless to everything around him.

“The future… me? Huh?” Yamamoto looked confused, as if he still couldn’t understand the situation at hand.

“I met the future you, you asshole.” Gokudera explained in a hostile tone. “You had a scar. Over here.” He tapped Yamamoto’s chin lightly.

Yamamoto laughed. “Was he cool?”

“Way cooler than you. That’s what.”

The dark-haired boy laughed again as he leaned down and tied his shoe laces. Gokudera was leaning against a wall as he finished off a drag. When he was done with it, he threw it away and crushed it beneath his shoes, and Yamamoto wondered if it was okay to do that inside the underground base.

Yamamoto was surprised when Gokudera suddenly grabbed his collar and shoved him, forcing him to look at the Italian’s face. Lips crushed down on his, hard and unyielding, and Yamamoto could taste the smoke and he didn’t mind. He did mind when Gokudera let go and pushed him away, and grabbed another stick from his box, like what he just did didn’t mean a thing.

The baseball player blinked and thought about it. When Gokudera said nothing, he knew he shouldn’t push it, so he leaned down again to resume tying his shoe laces. After a few seconds, it dawned on him, and his face shot right back to face Gokudera.

“Gokudera!”

“What?” Gokudera seem surprised at the shock in Yamamoto’s face.

“You didn’t fool around with him… me… him…? Did you?!”

Gokudera went red, and he crushed his box underneath his grip. “W-what the hell?!” He stuttered. “First of all, what do you care?! Second, _no_!”

Looking dissapointed, Yamamoto said, “Oh.”

The Italian took hold of the front of his shirt again. Snarling, he asked, “ _Oh_?”

Laughing, he said, “If I met another version of you, we would have done some things.”

Gokudera snarled again, and he tightened his hold on Yamamoto’s shirt. “If you met my future self, he wouldn’t fool around with you! Fucking moron!”

“He would have.” Yamamoto leaned upward and grabbed the back of Gokudera’s neck. He used his other hand to grab the stick in between his teeth and threw it, and his lips followed, crushing Gokudera in a kiss that made his knees too weak and his arms too limp that he couldn’t pull away.

His hold on Yamamoto lightened until his hand was just resting there flatly, his fingers brushing at the curve of his collarbone.

“And it would have been hot.” Yamamoto whispered against Gokudera’s ear warmly.

“…I-idiot!”

**End.**  



End file.
